


Heart, Thank You

by Tippy152



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tippy152/pseuds/Tippy152
Summary: Frenchie is going to leave Kimiko alone now. He doesn't understand that's not what she wants.Set after Season 2 Episode 6.
Relationships: The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro/The Frenchman
Comments: 20
Kudos: 107





	Heart, Thank You

Kimiko sat on the couch, lost in her thoughts, thinking over everything that had happened that day.

_“You never asked to be saved.”_

_She had given him a small smile, grateful that he was finally understanding. Lord knew she was a fucked-up, broken mess, and she certainly wasn’t happy about it, but she needed to deal with everything that had been going on in her own way and at her own pace. And she needed him, her friend, her closest ally, to be there without judging her or making her feel worse about herself. She just needed him to be there._

_“So, I leave you alone.”_

_What? No. She didn’t want to be left alone. She had spent enough time alone. She opened her mouth to say something, but of course no words came._

_And then a car approached and her chance was gone._

Why was this so hard for him to get? In the beginning, when he had first found her, it had seemed like he understood her completely. It was as if there was some other-worldly connection between them. He saw through the monster that she had been made into, he saw through her silence, and he saw the person she truly was.

_“I don’t understand what you’re saying because you won’t teach me!”_

His words from the church echoed in the back of her mind. Quickly she focused her attention on the TV in front of her in order to block out the memory of what he had said next, only to realize that the TV wasn’t even on.

As she looked around for the remote, she saw Frenchie and MM coming down the stairs. As he always did, Frenchie immediately scanned the area until his eyes landed on her. It’s like he always wanted to know where she was. There was no snide remark that followed like it did this morning, but he also didn’t come join her like he would have a few weeks ago. Instead he just gave her a small smile, one that seemed almost sad, and then headed to his cot without a word.

MM did head over to the couch.

“Looking for this?” he asked, holding out the remote which had fallen to the ground at some point.

She shook her head, no, and turned back to the blank screen.

“All right,” he mumbled, as he sat down and began flipping through the channels.

_“I don’t understand”_

_“You won’t teach me”_

_“Fuck this”_

_“Fuck—”_

She thought back to the look on his face during that moment in the church. Despite the words he said, which had been all she could focus on at the time, the look on his face hadn’t been one of hatred. It was hurt. She had hurt him.

The connection between the two of them wasn’t some sort of magical miracle. He was a good man, who had seen a pain in her similar to the pain he himself harboured. And he then did everything he could to reach her through the darkness. She realized now that it wasn’t effortlessly that he understood her in the beginning. He cared and so he put in the work. And she hadn’t made it any easier on him by shutting him out. Perhaps she owed him an apology too.

Before she could rethink it, she got up off the couch and headed for Frenchie’s little corner of their home.

It wasn’t even a room, just a large alcove with a bedsheet hung up to offer some privacy. She rapped her knuckles against the wall to announce her presence before drawing the sheet aside.

Frenchie was laying on his cot just staring up at the ceiling, but leaned up on his elbows when he saw her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows and jutted her chin forward to ask if she could come in. Frenchie nodded and sat up, moving over to make space for her beside him on the cot.

She sat down, legs crossed, facing him. He began to speak but she shook her head and held up her hand to cut him off.

She took a deep breath and then formed a fist with her right hand and pressed it against her chest, making a small circle over her heart. _Sorry._

She watched him as the realization dawned on him, that she was sharing her language with him.

She repeated the action again. _Sorry._ There was so much more that she wanted to say, but for now this would have to do.

Frenchie had a big smile on his face now. She could tell he didn’t know what she had signed to him, but it was the act of her trying to communicate, finally letting him in, that was enough for him in this moment.

“Is this the sign for heart?” he asked as he copied her action.

She shook her head, no. Then she took his hand in hers, pausing for a moment to just relish the peaceful feeling surrounding them now, despite the terror that was ongoing in the world around them, then she pulled his fingers open so his hand was flat between hers, bent his middle finger at the knuckle, and tapped his finger against his chest twice. _Heart._

She let go of his hand as he repeated the action independently.

“This is heart.”

She smiled and nodded.

“How do I say thank you?”

She modeled the sign and he repeated it back to her.

“Thank you, mon coeur, for letting me learn.”

 _Thank you,_ she signed back, before pulling him into a tight embrace. Thank you for wanting to learn. Thank you for wanting to know me.

It wasn’t going to be easy. It was going to take a long time. But already with that little bit of herself that was now his too – _heart, thank you_ – she could already feel some weight being lifted off of her shoulders as she began to feel whole again. 


End file.
